Work Text:
The stream’s water is clear and cold as Wednesday tests it with her fingertips, the early morning sun only able to do so much to warm her skin. The seer folds her pants neatly, even though they’re dirty and torn from the explosion at the circus. She stands in just her underwear, simple black bra and panties, her arms at her sides, her face serene.
Her skin prickles with the morning breeze coming through the trees in the forest, where they chose to hide after escaping Paris with a recently freed Alpha werewolf. But the cold has never bothered Wednesday; it’s actually a good relief for the heat and turmoil that has been brewing inside her since they found Enid.
She thought it’d get better, that once they found her, her confusing feelings would settle, but it’s actually been the opposite, they’ve only gotten worse.
The water is up to Wednesday’s waist when there’s a snap of a branch somewhere in the tree line and the seer looks up curiously. Fester and Thing visited a nearby town to get some food, so Wednesday knows that it’s either a wild animal or—
“Enid,” she says, seeing the big werewolf approach the stream.
Enid’s eyes roam over her semi-naked torso, the braids undone to be able to wash the grime off of her hair. The wolf’s steps falter. She whines and her claws come up to cover her eyes like a puppy that’s been scolded. Wednesday rolls her eyes.
“Enid, you’ve seen me change countless times.”
Enid whines again, her shoulders hunching.
“Yes, it’s fine,” Wednesday deadpans. Her fingers trail over the water, letting the current slip between them as she walks further in. She eyes her friend, noting the way her white fur is basically gray. “You need a bath anyway.”
Enid huffs, seemingly offended. Her claws drop from her face and she approaches the river. Wednesday observes her, letting her body float in the freezing stream. The current is not strong enough to drag her and the low temperature stings her skin like needles. It’s invigorating.
Enid dips a paw in the water and yelps, sending Wednesday a questioning, alarmed glance.
“It’s not that bad. You’ll get used to it.”
With that reassurance and trusting her friend completely, Enid jumps in. The water splashes in all directions and when the wolf reemerges, Wednesday is blinking at her unamused, droplets clinging to her lashes.
The werewolf huffs and snorts in what looks like laughter.
“Very funny,” Wednesday deadpans.
Enid dives underwater, letting the current rinse the grime from her fur after weeks of being trapped and neglected inside a cage. When she comes up for air, she shakes her body hard, like a dog, which makes Wednesday sputter.
“Stop it, you mutt,” she grits. Wednesday swims closer to grab the fur of her neck. “That’s not efficient. Your fur’s still dirty and matted. You’re just being a nuisance.”
Enid whines, her whole body slumping as she sits at the bottom of the shallow side of the stream, her shoulders, neck and head still above the water. She looks at Wednesday pitifully.
“What?”
Enid whines.
“I know you don’t like it.”
She tilts her head with a little whimper.
“No, I haven’t found a way to change you yet. But we will.”
Enid huffs. Her claws scratch over the matter fur clumsily.
“You’re making it worse.”
Enid howls in frustration.
“Fine, fine,” Wednesday snaps. “Stop calling the attention of the whole forest.”
And then she starts combing her fingers through Enid’s fur, untangling it and cleaning the clumps of dirt and dark, reddish grime. When she realizes that what she’s looking at is blood, Wednesday pauses to inspect it more closely. Underneath the fur there are wounds, scarred now but still angry and irritated. Some of them seem older, others are pretty recent.
As she touches them almost reverently, finding more around Enid’s neck and shoulders, Enid whimpers, low and sad.
“They used silver prods on you.”
The wolf huffs affirmatively.
Wednesday takes her big head in her hands. There’s another scar that goes over Enid’s snout and between her eyes, one that thankfully missed her eye.
“I’m sorry this happened to you.”
Enid’s eyes tremble with emotion, but they’re unable to cry in the way the human would. She nuzzles into Wednesday’s hand in gratitude.
“I should’ve found you sooner.”
Enid whines her complaint.
“No, I should’ve—“ Wednesday scratches her ear and Enid’s chest rumbles in a deep purr. The seer sighs. “We’ll find a way to turn you back. You have my word.”
And then, that same compulsion to hold Enid tight that she felt after rescuing her flares back up again. It’s confusing and intense and it makes Wednesday uncomfortable. So instead of doing that, she does something infinitely worse: she leans forward and kisses the scar on Enid’s face, not giving it a second thought.
Enid goes cross eyed, and then when Wednesday moves back, she stares at her like she’s hung the moon in the sky. Maybe like she’s the moon herself.
Wednesday wants to say something, like a dry remark or a threat to Enid to not mention it ever again. But Enid can’t speak and Wednesday doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to, so she supposes the damage is minor. Besides, there’s no one around to witness what just happened except the object of her affections.
The object of… Wednesday feels her face heat up at the thought; a novel revelation but not exactly a surprising one, since every other one she’s had has been leading her to this conclusion.
Wednesday dives under the water, hoping to hide, to clear her head, to cool her flushing face. She swims to the opposite shore of the stream, resurfacing with her dark, long tresses dripping around her face like she’s some swamp creature.
She hears a splash behind her and she turns in time to see Enid doggy paddling towards her, her tongue lolling out.
“You look ridiculous,” Wednesday remarks dryly.
Enid doesn’t seem to care, nudging her side as soon as she’s in range and dragging her wet fur over her skin.
“And you smell like a wet dog.”
Enid howls happily and playfully, and Wednesday can tell it comes to mean something like: ‘I don’t care! You just kissed my face!’
Wednesday sure hopes she’s forgotten about it by the time she’s a human.
“Ladies! We’re back!” Fester calls from the tree line. He lifts a couple brown bags. “And we brought forty-two hot dogs!” He turns to Thing. “You sure that’ll be enough for the wolfie?”
Thing shrugs.
Enid’s stomach growls. She closes her maw around Wednesday’s arm, her muzzle soft and her teeth barely grazing over her skin, and pulls her towards the shore. Wednesday lets herself be dragged with a sharp sigh. Enid nudges her out, pushing on her butt with her flank. Wednesday glares at her with a blush high on her cheekbones.
“You’re even more infuriating as a wolf,” she grumbles.
Enid follows her out, shaking her fur again and getting Wednesday’s clothes wet.
Wednesday looks positively murderous. “I’ll bring you back to the clowns.”
Enid howls in amusement as she goes to join Fester and Thing, still riding the high of Wednesday kissing her scar. The seer hates that she understands her: ‘No, you would never.’